Fun House
by Mantinas
Summary: This used to be a fun house; now it's full of evil clowns. Abusive Comashipping. Based off of P!nk's "Fun House", but not a songfic. Mentioned lemon.


Fun House

Key:

**Mumble-**Ash's dark thoughts.

'Mumble'-Conversations from memories.

_Mumble-_Backwards time jump.

(o)(o)(o)

Ash was trapped in memories. A rather sad predicament anyone can fall into, especially when one's love turns over a new leaf…In the wrong direction.

His eyes gazed longingly at the front door. As if he looked at it long enough his salvation would come. Instead, a memory flashed in his head.

_The knob on the front door turned, the door opening a jar as he entered. His purple hair contrasted beautifully by the sun and dim lighting of the house._

_Ash would run from the kitchen and greet his man with a kiss and a drink. Paul would kiss back and smile, asking what was for dinner-Ash having learned how to cook without calling 9-1-1-and sitting in an armchair to relax._

The happy memory then ended. _**He mumbled something!**_Ash's eyes glazed over as a recent memory flooded his mind.

_The front door closes with a loud slam! Ash is scared to leave the kitchen, which makes Paul angrier. _

"_ASH!" He shouts. "Where's my beer? Don't you love me anymore?"_

_That always got the usually happy man. With more than enough love to give, he never wanted that to be in question. Acquiescing, he takes a beer out of the fridge and quickly scurries out to meet the purple haired man of his life._

"'_Bout time…" He grabs the drink and evades Ash's attempt at kissing him. He stomps over to his armchair and inhales the bitter substance._

_**He murmurs again! Why must he mumble? He can't help the situation anymore…**_

He shakes his head, clearing his vision. But that is only a temporary cure. He hears the bathroom door slam against the wall, Paul screams because he was in their too long: 'What? Am I not _good _enough for you anymore?'

'Constipated,' Ash whimpers weakly.

'Liar!' Ash hears the resounding slap from his spot on the main floor. He then hears the bed creaking nosily, the posts scraping the floor from the rough treatment the purple-haired man was doling out to him. Bite marks, slimy tongue, and rough sliding used in order to mark him.

'Mine!'

**God damn it, stop mumbling, Paul! You never let **_**me**_** mumble!**

Ash finally has the nerve to look down at the man he loved from his perch on the recliner; gas can between his legs on the floor. Gagged by one of his own ties and tied tightly around the chest and ankles by the very rope used on him for various kinks Paul wanted to try.

He looked so weak. So helpless. Their roles were switched, yet Ash couldn't find it in him to laugh. Nothing to laugh at, really. He was the most powerful trainer in the whole world, yet was brought down by some insignificant ant who proved to be nowhere near his ability in any form. Also, it was this ant that he let in after everything that happened with his mother and father.

Uncapping the gasoline canister, he began to pour it everywhere in the living room. A splash on the door which became a blessing every morning and a curse every afternoon. The stairs, couch-where first heated passion thrived now cold blood stains it, recliner-Paul's chair, Paul-who's cries were muffled by the tie, and finally himself.

Yes, the option of running away had entered his mind. But Ash knew; it was a curse. One bad relationship can lead to another and another and another, until finally he either ends up dead by the hand of his lover or himself. Or, on a brighter side, alone. Either way lead to a tragic ending for him. He wouldn't be able to live like that. Also, he wasn't a murderer…Until now, that is.

"I tried, Paul." Ash started. He laughed, relief cascading from his mouth in waves of joyous cacophony. "I can't say I didn't try to make this work. And I'm still not sure how the hell this got to be so bad, but it's over now."

**Mumbling! Mumbling! _Mumbling!_**

"Speak up!" Ash yanks the tie out, it comes undone easily.

"Let me go, Ash!" Paul screams. "Look at what you're doing! This isn't sane! Untie me and we'll get you help. Also, we'll clean up this gasoline; don't want it to stain, do we?"

Ash laughed. Typical Paul, always trying to pin it on him. Only this time, Ash mused, it is his fault. Ash takes out one of those elongated lighters and pushes the button, igniting the flame.

"Goodbye, Paul." Ash said, bending towards a pool of liquid just between the two of them. "Can't say we didn't have fun, but it's over now." He looked deep into scared, purple eyes. "See you in hell."

The fire touched the pool and it spread, engulfing both clowns and their fun house.


End file.
